


(un)like icarus to the sun

by magma_maiden



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cheating, Cisswap, F/M, Female Senju Hashirama, Mutual Pining, Smut, cisbent, there's only one bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:37:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23808592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magma_maiden/pseuds/magma_maiden
Summary: all men are icarus to hashirama, but to madara she's the one struggling to defy gravity on a pair of wax wings.in this blizzard, they chose to land.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	(un)like icarus to the sun

**Author's Note:**

> naruto (c) masashi kishimoto, no profits taken from this fic
> 
> warnings: orgasm denial, cheating (he had it coming tho), penetrative sex
> 
> tell me if i need to add a tag/warning
> 
> Edit 7/5/20 lmao forgot to update the draft here

“Heard you just broke up.”

Hashirama stopped slurping her iced coffee and turned around to see her friend descending the mall’s deserted stairway.

“Yeah,” the girl shrugged, grinning. “Why are you here, though? Aren’t you supposed to attend advanced math class…?”

“You know that’s not free.” Madara kicked cigarette blunts from a step before sitting down. “I’d rather run an errand.”

She made a face at him. “Isn’t that dangerous?”

He frowned. “No—don’t change the topic. You and that boy from another class. What happened?”

“I’m not sure what happened either? Maybe he thinks I’m boring.” Hashirama slurped aloud. “He’s the one who asked me out then he went out with another girl just two weeks after.”

Madara leaned back at the steps. “Ah. So much for the so-called high school romantic experience.”

“He said something weird though.”

“What?”

“He said he feels like Icarus around me. Like I’m the sun who burned his wings.” Hashirama fiddled with her straw. “He said I’ll burn other boys’ wings too.”

He scoffed. “Sounds too pretentious to hide a cheating habit.”

She broke into a laugh after a pause. “Of course! There’s no way I’ll burn you!”

“I’m not an Icarus.” Madara chuckled, offering a hand. “Let’s go home.”

Hashirama grasped it, not knowing that the words of her first ex would be carried within until her adulthood.

* * *

Some said a girl wouldn’t grow into womanhood until she could get a man. Hashirama didn’t care about that, but her friends and relatives never stopped pestering. A maiden so beautiful and talented, born to an influential family, but unwanted by men? Ridiculous! Worthless!

She didn’t lack boys and men throwing themselves onto her path, trying to guilt trip her into dating them. Funny how her friends and relatives approved them despite knowing they’re cheaters and liars, while not even once glancing at the only man she allowed close to her.

It was unspoken, but Hashirama knew they thought Madara was unworthy for her. Too poor, too unrefined for their standard. Hashirama had played along, maintaining a cheerful girlfriend facade whenever she brought her Icarus to a family gathering. But all her thoughts, her feelings, all went to Madara who never stepped into the Senju residence once they graduated high school twelve years ago.

Just because he worked his ass off to feed his struggling family, doesn’t mean he’s unworthy to be with her.

Even some of her exes noticed how often she talked about Madara to them. Hashirama couldn’t help it; Madara was the only man who didn’t treat her like she’s made from porcelain, carefully cultivated to adorn gilded halls.

She was tired, she was exhausted. She longed to be with him. Dumping her current boyfriend wouldn’t be a problem—just another cheater, another Icarus. Her main concern was telling him her feelings…

The problem was that Madara believed Hashirama just had the worst luck in men.

The problem was that Hashirama started to believe maybe all men were Icaruses to her scorching light.

* * *

“You keep dating despicable men like you’re addicted to the pain.” Madara closed the hotel room behind them. “Like you’re running from something.”

Madara didn’t know. Sage’s beard, of course he didn’t know. Not even once they ever talked about their relationship—not quite friendship but nothing more either.

What’s the point of talking about it when they both know the odds are against them?

Hashirama clutched the curtain she opened earlier, watching the blizzard battering the entire city before closing it shut.

No Icarus dared to fly in a blizzard like this.

“I just dated them to make everyone shut up,” she finally said, removing her necklace. “People—my relatives... fuss more about my single status than my emotional well being around those liars.”

Madara looked way tired than their last meeting—when was that?--with aging lines starting to show up around his eyes. Even his usually smooth jaw had some stubble. He loosened his tie—slightly out of place for his usual style.

“You’re an adult, Hashirama.”

“They’ve been adults as long as I have, if not longer.” She offered him a pained smile. “You should’ve seen the men they pushed to me in our gatherings.”

He took off his jacket. “There are worse?”

“Many variants of worse.” Hashirama sat, her body bouncing on the bed. “There were… some, who said my father’s career would skyrocket if he let me ‘accompany’ them after school.”

“...You never told me anything about this before.”

“It’s not important anymore. They’re dead.” Hashirama shrugged it off. “You can have the bed.” Seeing his expression, she added, “the sofa is large enough for me.”

“There’s only one blanket.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Hashirama waved a hand as she went to the bathroom.

* * *

The heck is wrong with her?

Why do all these thoughts, these feelings come crashing down now?

Hashirama splashed cold water to her face. Madara met her here after her boyfriend bailed out of their date—he chose to drive around his new car and had to go home due to the blizzard instead. She overheard a familiar feminine voice when he called her earlier, so he must be taking the woman he cheated on her along in the car. Her voice was familiar to Hashirama because she had met her several times in person.

No, that didn’t bother her in the slightest. It’s Madara.

Would she be alright if he never knows?

But would her confession burn him, melt his wings?

Something was bothering him too. This blizzard, maybe. His job, most likely. He spent a few years undercover once...

She asked him to come here since the hotel was close to the airport, also because his flight had just got cancelled. Since their graduation they rarely met in person, once a year if they’re lucky. With their respective jobs and different social circles, future meetings were uncertain.

Any day could be their last interaction, especially with the dangerous nature of his job.

* * *

Madara was already in front of the bathroom door when she finished. Yet he made no movement to enter. His face was cold.

“We need to talk.”

“...Okay.” Hashirama went to the sitting area of the suite, Madara in tow. “About what?”

“What are you running from?”

The question was spoken as if Madara merely commented on the weather. Yet his entire body said otherwise. She could tell he was dying to ask her.

“This blizzard?” Hashirama laughed, heading to her suitcase. “Go use the bathroom so—”

“You’re running from my question.”

“Ahaha, no—”

“Look at me.”

Her hands froze. She straightened her back, facing him. He sat on the opposite side of the bed.

“Listen. I just got a promotion.”

“Congrats…?”

“I’m supposed to move away tonight.”

_ Huh? _

“I’m required to work in our… headquarter, so to speak,” he continued. “It’s in another country. Izuna and the rest are already there…”

Hashirama’s thoughts drowned the rest of Madara’s words. A promotion this big, yet he never told her before? He would be busier now, maybe they wouldn’t be able to meet as often, and their communication too… surely...

She tried to say something, but her lips merely parted in silence. Something fell onto her cheek. It’s wet.

The next thing she knew was another lips on top of hers. It crashed all over Hashirama; her feelings for Madara, his weight as she fell to the sofa behind her, everything, everything about him—

His hand kept her head firmly, deepening their kiss. She gripped his shoulders tightly until they separated, out of breath. It wasn’t long as she pulled himself closer again. His tongue met hers, hair tangled into mess, their bodies moved in rhythm.

She tried to take a deep breath, but a sob came out instead. It alarmed him. Madara scrambled up, seemingly desperate to put a distance between them.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath, covering the lower half of his face with a hand, “Fuck.”

Hashirama pulled herself up. “Madara—it’s…” Her _ okay _ was inaudible. 

Madara looked away. “You’re in a relationship.”

Her hand faltered.

“He may be terrible but you’re still with him,” Madara continued, his voice incredibly stable despite his obvious emotional turmoil. “It was inappropriate, I’m you friend, I—” he stopped abruptly, walking away.

“I have to be honest with you.” Hashirama followed him. “I just—I don’t want to hurt you.”

Yet when he stared back at her, her tongue was petrified.

She scolded herself. He’s her friend, they’d known each other for twenty years or so. To hurt him like this...

“If you’re going to be honest,” Madara said, softer, “then look at me. Look at me as a man, Hashirama.”

She did, and she realized something.

He’s not an Icarus. Hashirama was the Icarus, his Icarus, soaring to reach him despite her melting wax wings.

“Madara, I...” she started, her heart racing madly, “I’ve been in love with you.”

His eyebrows furrowed.

She continued with trembling lips, “all this time… I’m in love with you.”

“All this time?” he repeated coldly. “All this time, when you’re dating and fucking other men?”

“I—” Hashirama looked away. Her wings were nothing but withering frames now, and she had nowhere to run except falling—

Deeper. Falling even deeper when he had rejected her.

Madara lifted her chin, their faces only inches apart. “Liar,” he hissed.

“No!” she pressed, louder than intended, “I’m telling the truth, I’m—”

He picked her up with ease, throwing her onto the bed and crawled over her. His head blocked the light above. His eyes had darkened and his grip tightened, bruising her wrists as he pinned them above her head using one hand. She could only bite her lower lip while he yanked her dress open.

Madara kissed her hard, forcing her lips to part and letting his tongue enter her mouth. Hashirama returned the kiss, tasting the salt from her tears, but he pulled apart immediately. His lips wandered downwards to her neck, her collarbone, to the soft flesh where he sank his teeth. Not a slow, chaste kiss like before; Madara marked her here and there, hastily and impatiently. As if this act would make up the years she spent lying to herself.

Lying to him.

Oh Sage, she merely didn’t want to burn him, like how the sun melted Icarus’ wings, like how she burned her exes. She didn’t want him stressed because of her gossiping relatives.

Her eyelids fluttered. The golden chandelier blurred in her view. Tears had welled up in her eyes.

“You think you’ll hurt me like I can’t handle you,” she heard him whispering, closer to her right ear.

“No—” Hashirama gasped as his weight shifted and his figure no longer loomed over her. “I’m sorry, Madara.”

A silk cloth wrapped tightly around her wrists. She couldn’t pull them down. He had tied her onto the nearest bedpost using his tie.

Her heart raced as realization dawned on her. He was serious.

“What’s so bad in being honest with yourself, Hashirama?” Madara yanked aside her panties, scoffing as his fingers emerged wet and sticky. “Your body only took a minute of kissing to spill your secrets,” he said, tasting a finger. “All this time I thought you’re a terrible liar.”

Hashirama couldn’t say anything to that. There’s a tingling sensation pooling between her legs, ignited by their makeout earlier.

When she felt no movements apart from her own after a while, she lifted her head. Madara still had his sight set between her legs, but his face was unreadable. Her heart sank. Is something wrong?

“Madara…?”

“You said you love me,” he said, his voice lowered into a half-growl, “why did you wait until we’re stuck in a blizzard to tell me?”

“You’re—” Her breath hitched. A rough finger just found its way to her swollen nub. “You’re busy with—nnh—”

Her words came out as moans as he mercilessly played with her clit. Madara worked slowly, trying out different movements to elicit different responses from her.

“Madara! I’m—close…” 

At that word, he stopped.

“Continue, Hashirama,” he commanded, lifting his sticky fingers for her to see. “Is it because you think I’d be just another Icarus, like what your first ex told you?” he added, running a hand up her thigh and kissing its inner skin.

“You’re—busy…” She swallowed thickly.

“I told you to be honest.” Madara flicked her clit, grinning as she screamed.

“I am!” Hashirama yelled, shivering not from the cold. She was so close, so close… Even with her eyes closed and wet, she could tell Madara was exploring her with a mock hesitation, his callous fingers barely touching her feverish skin.

Everywhere except the places that would let her release her tension.

“You’re busy,” she said breathily, her rock hard nipples brushed her dress everytime she drew a breath, “with school, part time work, law—things…” 

“Is this how you treat the man whom you claimed to love?” Madara’s words were spoken so slowly and drawn out, as if he’s savoring each of its meanings. “While you’re in a relationship with another?”

“He’s gonna be an ex—”

Madara rose, threw her strapless bra away, then sunk his hands on her breasts. The whole thing happened so fast—the next thing Hashirama knew was his weight pressing on her soft flesh. His still clothed hips grinding hers, his shirt brushed her cold hard nipples. She called his name, followed by another scream.

Again, he pulled back before she could reach her peak.

Hashirama cursed, slamming her head into the soft blanket and breathing raggedly.

He laughed mockingly. “Is this how you begged your exes for sex too?”

“No. They never.” Her answer was barely audible. She was on the verge of tears. “T-told you… I love you. But you… busy. Don’t want to disturb.”

She knew he understood. Madara had been working since young to support his family while maintaining his top grades.

Having a girlfriend would distract him.

“Did you love them?” he asked again, colder this time. “Any of them?”

She shook her head.

“You made both of us suffer.” Madara took off his pants, freeing his erection, then he did the same with her soaked underwear. “You have no idea how long I’ve been in love with you.”

Hashirama blinked, confused. “What—?” 

Madara entered himself into her, spreading her legs wide. He moved still in anger, eliciting short and rapid moans from her. It took only a few thrust to push Hashirama past her edges. She sobbed into her arm as the blissful flare receded from her body.

A touch on her chin, and she faced his scowling face again.

“I didn’t say you get to climax just now.” He pulled out.

“How could I not?” Hashirama yanked her wrists, trying to free herself. “You’ve been touching me—”

Madara tweaked a nipple, turning her words into a squeal. “Patience, Hashirama. If I had endured years seeing you in other men’s arms, then you can endure a few minutes of this.” With that, he closed his mouth around her other nipple, sucking it hard, pressing it between his tongue and upper teeth.

“Madara, please—” Hashirama rubbed her legs on his sides, gently hinting him to enter herself again.

“Beg for it,” he said, switching to her right breast.

Hashirama whined.

He pulled his mouth so suddenly, making a pop sound as her breast bounced back from the impact. “Cruel persuasion it is.”

Madara shoved three fingers into her vagina, making her back arched from the sensation. His thumb encircled her clit again, driving her crazy. Her toes curled around the bedsheets, ready to release another climax, but Madara read her like an open book. He stepped back right before she came.

“Madara, my love, please!” she urged him, growling in frustration. 

That stunned him. Hashirama yanked the tie free from the bedpost, grabbing his shoulders. Madara caught her wrists again, pushing her back to the bed, kissing her hard while taking off whatever clothing left on their bodies.

“Say it,” Madara commanded between kisses, “say it again.” His cock lingered around her labia, descending in a slow, challenging manner.

“I love you,” Hashirama whispered, meeting his eyes, “Madara, I love—ah! Ah!”

Madara slammed himself into her repeatedly, eyes closed in deep focus. Hashirama held him, slowly raising her legs, urged by the whisperings of her name.

"Hashi—" He sank his head into her chest, starting to pull out.

Hashirama pushed his body closer to her using her feet. "No—don't stop, Madara, don't stop…"

"Hashirama—?" He was surprised at her request. "Is inside…?"

She nodded fervently, lips pulled upwards. "Yes—please—"

His speed picked up suddenly, her walls gripping his cock hard and tightly. Madara's hand found hers, their fingers intertwined, both overwhelmed by each other's presence as they came, almost at the same time.

* * *

The blizzard was still ongoing a few hours later. The news said it might last for two days. The aftermath's damage might take a few days to ease up.

"Your phone has been chirping," Madara said as Hashirama slid under the cover after returning from the bathroom.

"Mm?" She unlocked it, smiling as she scrolled the chat log. "As expected, he's angry."

"Considering you just sent him our picture sleeping together, no wonder."

"There's this one girl he regularly fucked, you know, the same one whom he fucked tonight when we're supposed to date…" She sighed, curling closer to Madara. "She likes to send me their picture everytime they fuck."

"That's an awfully solid reason to leave him." Madara nuzzled her hair, his chest on her back.

"Oh his parents believe their son is just training his skills for our marriage life later. They said he wouldn't fuck a woman other than me by that time. As if I'd fix him by offering my virginity. Bleh." She scrolled down more. "Ah, now he's threatening to harm you."

Madara snorted. "I'd like to see him try harming one of the most dangerous men in this country."

Hashirama set her phone on airplane mode, then turned around. "About that… you know what my family said about you."

"I know." Madara held her face, tucking some strands behind her ear. "That's why I never… hinted what I feel towards you."

Seeing his expression made her realize Madara was apologizing to her. Really, he indeed hurt her body during sex but that was something she wanted as well. There's no need for him to apologize.

"I understand if you choose to follow their choices later. Just…" He held her tighter. "Didn't expect you harbored the same feelings."

"Neither did I." Hashirama kissed him softly, feeling an urge to apologize again, imagining him holding back his feelings for years...

"At least we have time until this blizzard stopped, it's—"

"But I want to come home to you," Hashirama insisted, "don't you want the same?"

He was silent for a while before asking, "even when you know the consequences?"

She nodded. "I'll find a way."

"I really won't mind if you someday choose to settle down with someone else, Hashirama."

"I'd just hurt that person, and myself. Besides..." Her fingers found traces of the scars she inflicted unknowingly earlier on his back. She glanced up. "Would you really be fine with it?"

"Why do you think I accepted this promotion and agreed to move abroad?" he asked in a low, sleepy voice.

Her eyes turned round. "Madara…"

He opened his eyes, smiling. "Now that we both had lost our fake wings, should we begin settling down on the ground?”

A breathless laugh left her lips. “Of course!” Hashirama wiped her tears. “Of course we should!”

Her sight fell on his toned chest. A dark line made of cursive characters unknown to her adorned his left chest, close to his heart. She gingerly touched it.

"This looked like something from a fantasy movie," Hashirama whispered, "a fictional script…?"

"Correct."

She glanced up. "What does it read?"

Madara took her finger, tracing each character. "Ha-si-ra-ma."

"You… tattooed my name on your chest?" She burst out laughing.

"I know that's cheesy but shut up." He pushed her head into his chest, grinning.

"Now I need to get a matching tattoo," she said, muffled in his hug. "Let's be cheesy together."

"I'm considering a tattoo removal."

"Hey!"

**Author's Note:**

> this was meant to be pwp but i got too far w/ worldbuilding
> 
> anw thanks for reading


End file.
